Surcease of Sorrow
by LadyRavena
Summary: Read and Review: A look at Severus's past that he'll never admit to now. Part 1 of the Lost Lenore series
1. Default Chapter

I don't own these characters, except for Lenore, nor the poem at the end of the story. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made *sob!*  
  
Surcease of Sorrow. Lady Ravena  
  
Albus Dumbledore stood in the courtyard, watching as the students enjoyed themselves in the new-fallen snow. The two largest troublemakers, James Potter and Sirius Black, were both in the hospital wing due to Quidditch injuries. (James' from a Bludger, Sirius' from a Slytherin's fist.) This meant that Remus Lupin had been left adrift, bereft of the first friends he had ever had. This left him the prime target of the Slytherin gang, headed by Malfoy, yet it was Severus Snape that led the group against Lupin, barely covering over the fact that Remus was a werewolf.  
  
Dumbledore decided that today would, hopefully, be the end of it between the two. "Severus Snape?"  
  
Upon hearing his name called by the Headmaster, the boy's face instantly composed itself. He left the group, coming to a respectful halt and dipped his head. "Headmaster." "Would you kindly come with me, Mr. Snape?" Without waiting for a reply, he turned and went into the school, up several flights of stairs before they arrived at his office. He bade the boy to sit down as soon as the door was closed. Dumbledore settled down in his own chair behind his desk. He placed his hands, folded, onto it and leaned forward. "I have watched, for some time now, you're personal dislike of Mr. Lupin. Before you knew of his affliction, it was a general dislike. I had expected that; after all, you are both in rival houses, both too proud to back down when they are wrong. Yet in the last month, you have shown a marked increase in your hatred toward him." He held up a hand to forestall any argument. "Hear me out, my boy. There is a question I must ask of you. What personal hatred of werewolves do you have, Severus? It is not general mistrust in you that the teachers have sensed." The 15 year old's eyes were like mirrors, reflecting everything else back at the older man. He said nothing, and nothing showed on his face; yet Albus knew that he had struck something deep in the young man. He regretted the necessity of his next statement. "Either you tell me, or I will be forced to write to your parents asking them to explain this. I am responsible for the physical and mental health of the students. That includes bottled-up hatred, Mr. Snape." The young man finally spoke after another few months had passed. "Even if you wrote to Father, he would ignore it, and tell you nothing." His voice was cold and emotionless, merely stating fact. His eyes became mocking though his tone and attitude remained respectful. "Will you force the answer from me, sir? I believe that is illegal concerning minors." Dumbledore shook his head. "I do not use force on any problem. It only makes the situation worse. If, as you say, I will receive no answer from your father, I would hope that you would supply the information." The young man shrugged. "You will find out in any case, from any tavern keeper worth his ale. I have nothing to hide that you can't find out." 


	2. 2

Lenore Snape danced in the moonlit garden. Her hair was the classic oily black that merely hung there, no matter what was done to it. Tonight, though, white blossoms were laced through the young woman's hair, making it look like a depthless pool of liquid obsidian. She wore here hair long as she always did.

Laughing she lifted her skirts to run over to where her 8 year old brother sat on the love seat under the ivy arch. "Do you like it, Sevi? Tell me truly, now."

The boy smiled. "Of coarse I do, Len. You look beautiful, for a girl."

She sniffed. "You'll like us one day, you know." 

"Never!"

She ruffled his hair. "So say you now. So it will not always be."

He sneered slightly. "Talk in verse must you do?"

She rose quickly. "You'll understand in 10 years, little worm. Go and get Father, I want a decent opinion."

After another rude comment, afterwhich Lenore threw a series of fireballs, which exploded into pink flowers over his head, Severus finally went to fetch his father.

He found him in the old study, a pile of books over his desk. He knocked once, waited until the other looked up to say, "Lenore wishes to see you, father, in the garden when you have a free moment."

Mr. Snape nodded. "The wedding dress came in this evening, did it?"

"Yes, father. She wishes to know your opinion of it. Mother even did up her hair like she'll have it next month."

The elder Snape smiled slightly. "I don't think there is a more proud moment for a father than when the first born is married. You'll know that in time, Severus. I have several young ladies in mind for you."

Severus shifted uneasily. "Yes, father. If there is nothing else…" He backed out, bowed and left the study.

He had always viewed arranged marriages as the same as breeding cattle. Oh, he knew the reasons. The family was pure 14 generations, and his father would become a vampire before one of his sons or daughters married a mudblood. His sister was marrying back into the Malfoys. The family was above all.

Severus was back in the entrance to the garden when a shriek rang through the house. His blood turned as cold as ice in his veins. _Lenore!_

His father made it into the garden just after Severus did. 


	3. 3

Years later Severus would awake screaming her name, recalling the rivers of blood. Even now, at 16, he still dreamed about it. He paused at his retelling.

"She … she died several days later, Headmaster. The reason why she did not change into a werewolf was that she was too badly injured. She never awoke." The boy – for he was still a boy – stood up. "If there was nothing else, sir, I have an essay to write."

"Severus, if you wish to speak, to share…"

"Frankly, no, Headmaster." He was almost out the door when Albus spoke up.

"Is that when your grades went up?"

The boy sketched a bow and departed.

Albus took a long time before he understood everything the boy had said, and that which he did not say. He stood up, finally, and stopped by the window, looked out onto the grounds. A line continued to repeat in his mind, over and over…

__

Vainly I had sought to borrow 

From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore 

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore


End file.
